Smeet and Spice!
by DarthZaDr
Summary: After moving in with Zim, Dib hopes for a happy future with his beloved mate, and an end to a life-long war with his sister. Life takes a odd turn however, as they stumble upon quite the surprise, and brings into light Dib's inevitable end. As choices must be made for the good of the smeet, so begins an aggressive civil-war between Dib and Gaz. Contains ZaDr, mpreg
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to my newest story! This is based on an AU I've created with IrkenProperty over on deviantart; please check out our art and I hope you all enjoy this new adventure!**

* * *

 _Hi son! Sorry I can't be here to see you off, I was called into the labs last minute. Send me a text once you've settled in. Don't be a stranger, you and your boyfriend can come over anytime you like.  
_ _Happy birthday! Love Dad_

Even after a lifetime of neglect it still held a sting. His room was like a chasm now; everything was packed away, safely stored in Zim's base just waiting to greet its new home. Only a single suitcase remained, that and his beloved laptop. His room smelled so strange, so very clean. The abyss took place of the one that once made up Dib's heart. That chasm was filled now.  
It was filled by Zim.

With a initiative smile Dib moved along, bags in hand and ready to go. Oh, how he'd yearned for this day. The house was so eerily quiet – save for the gentle drumming of a d-pad.  
"Not so alone, I guess." Dib smiled again, lingering upon the border of hell on Earth. "H-hey . . . Ga-"

"Oh. _You're_ still here?" The door was thrust open but even without it Gaz's voice grated the air. And much like a blade, Dib flinched away from the attack.

"Um . . . Yeah, well. The taxi's gonna pick me up in about ten minutes." Nervously, his fingers twitched here and there, anticipating an attack. The pain of his father's neglect was _nothing,_ beside the fear Dib bore for his sister.

Gaz sank back into her chair. "Good." It struck Dib like a punch, strong enough to make him bleed. "The sooner the better." Gaz took up the controller and resumed play. She wouldn't look at Dib, she wouldn't cast him a line. In fact, had it not been for the open door, she might not have granted him any acknowledgement.

And that hurt.

"That's all you have to say?" Dib's eyes pricked. "I know we've never exactly seen eye to eye but even so . . ." There was a pause, filled only by Dib's desperate search for the right words. " . . . We've had some good times Gaz, and I'll miss that." He was greeted suddenly by Gaz's harsh glare and again Dib flinched, but tried to quell the anger with a smile. "I'll still come over sometimes. I can buy pizza, and we could play some games?"

Always, no matter the case, it was always Dib who reached out for his sister's love. He always bought _her_ pizza, played the games _she_ wanted . . . He did it because he loved her, because Dib craved Gaz's love too. Now, standing before her, her eyes burned through into his soul, as if to burn him inside out.

"Why the _fuck_ would I want that?" Teeth bared and Gaz leaped to her feet. "You've plagued my life since the day I was born, _brother._ You've ruined Dad's life since _you_ were born, and now you want to hang out some more . . ? _Ugh!"_ Gaz shoved him backwards, the forced knocked Dib clean of his feet. "Fuck off, Dib. Crawl away to your alien boyfriend and ruin _his_ life for the next seventeen years, just like you've done to everyone you've met. You ain't even got the balls to bone him yet, because, _oh, I don't wanna freak him out!_ " Gaz paused, and spat like a pan of hot oil. "Yeah, like you alone ain't enough to creep Zim out!"

There was blood where the carpet had ripped through skin – ignored. It was his bleeding heart, bleeding soul, that set Dib's eyes burning. He turned away from his sister, from a lifetime of pain, and rose to his feet. ". . . I'm waiting because I love him, Gaz. Do you even know what love _is?_ " A flash of fire ignited into the world, and filled Dib with strength. "I doubt it." Slowly, he bend down for his bags. As a child Dib was ignorant of his wrong doings. Now, all grown up, he knew of his mistakes, how he'd upset Gaz. Was it any wonder she hated him?

 _But what I did to her . .. It was never as bad as how she hurt me._

The realisation was sudden, like a slap in the face. Tears streaked his cheeks, hot and hurting. Above the pain he heard a car horn, calling Dib to his future.  
To Zim.  
"Oh, and by the way, Gaz," Dib paused, and looked over his shoulder. "I turned eighteen today." He waited for no answer; Dib walked away from the pain, away from the darkness at his back.

* * *

"I'm sorry for wasting your time, sir. Here's the money anyway. Treat your other half or something."

In the end, he couldn't do it. He couldn't bring himself to get into the taxi, to face the bombardment of questions and cheery conversation. Dib's heart was bruised; so many years of hatred, so many scars lay atop each other, and even then Gaz still found a way to cut deeper, and scar his heart even more.  
The walk to Zim's base wasn't far, but weighed down by a suitcase and his precious laptop, the journey seemed that much more arduous. Dib didn't mind. In truth, the aches within his arm and shoulders was a welcoming relief to the pain inside.

"Why does she hate me so?" The streets were clear but still Dib mumbled. He spoke to his old companion; Misery, stalking his shadow. "I mean, I know I've done bad things. I'm human, I make mistakes . . . But it was never that bad, was it? I always said sorry, I always made up for my wrong doings . . . Why won't she move on? She always hurt me back, a thousand times fold at that. Why is she so _mean?"_

No answer. Of course not. Dib's eyes were red and itchy, his vision masked with tears. "E-even _Zim_ forgave me for what I've done . . . Why won't Gaz?"

 _Zim . . ._ Just to say his name was enough to lift some of the pain. Zim . . . The centre of his world for so long now; the bind that kept him to the earth. He was putty in Zim's capable hands. Zim chose to stay on Earth, and thus Dib stayed with him. Should Zim chose to leave, Dib would gladly follow.

That strange green house slid into view. So obvious and unique, much like its resident. _My home too._ Dib smiled warmly, his heart only somewhat elated, and he pushed his way inside. "Hey Zim, can you help me with me-"

"NO!" Zim's voice grated the air. "Get out! You can't be here!"

Just like that, the pain was back, great enough to crush Dib where he stood. "W-What? Wh-what d'you mean? What's going on?" A thick black smog poured in from the kitchen and shrouded the room in darkness. It seeped into Dib's mouth and he coughed violently. _"Koff koff . . ._ Z-Zim! What's hap- _koff –_ happening?!"

"Nothing, Dib-worm! Just get ou- AAAHHH!" And the blackness parted and Zim plunged into view. He was naught but panic, darting about like a terrified rabbit.

The sleeve of his tunic was engulfed by flames.

"ZIM! Hang on!" Dib charged in. His mind was blank; only Zim existed, his own beloved mate – his only companion. "Stand still!" His hand darted out and ripped at Zim's tunic. Thread and fabric fell away beneath Dib's grasp. "Jesus Christ!" Dib screamed over and over and leaped upon the fire. It seared, hissed and fought for life beneath his stomping feet – to no avail. The flames died away and Dib spun around. "Zim! Are you okay?!" He pulled Zim deep into his embrace, where both they could feel the pounding of Dib's heart against Zim's chest.

" . . . Yes, Zim is fine." Zim's tone was thick both with smoke and stiffness. He coughed, and eased away from Dib's hold. He could not bring himself to look upon Dib; his gaze was averted but his cheek tinted with purple.

"What's going on back there?" Dib dragged his sight from beautiful Zim to the kitchen, where flooded the masses of smoke. "Is something burning?" He pushed past Zim into the kitchen.

Zim's lekkus sprung to attention. "No Dib, don't go in!"

The cry came far too late. Already Dib was opening windows, fanning through the smog. "Are you cooking something, Zim?" That's strange for you! Did you read the instr- . . . instructions . . ?"

And then, silence.

". . . You weren't supposed to see it," Zim's tiny voice came from Dib's back but Dib couldn't see. His eyes were fixed upon the table. There, uneven and dripping with ooze, was a cake. Huge globs of runny, burned frosting painted much of the surface, but there remained naked patches of sponge, black as night, burned as hell itself. Two tiny figures, moulded from icing, sat proudly atop the mess – the only shred of perfection amongst the chaos. At the bases of the figures lay more icing, fashioned onto writing. Poorly spelled, and with a messy hand:

 _Wellcom hom Dib-wurm  
_ _hapy birth day thing_

". . . It's not ready yet . . ."

Slowly, Dib turned around. Zim was aflush in purple; he rushed to the stove and switched off the gas."Stupid primitive device . .. Unable to make even the _simplest_ of foods . . ."

The smoke hovered not be the oven, but the stove. ". . . Did you try to make butter cream on the stove?"

Zim nodded stiffly. "The stupid butter was too hard so I made it softer, but the _stooopid powered_ sugar made all the smoke! I swear, you humans and your idiotic cooki-"

He never finished. Zim's antennas sprung to attention. Three years of dating, and he still couldn't get used to this 'hugging'. Zim's eyes flickered back, from Dib's arms warm around his waist, back to his face. "Why are you crying, Dib-worm? D-Did I do something wrong?" Zim's lekkus wilted, just a bit, only to spring back to life as Dib smiled.

"No Zim," Dib sniffed yet the tears still came. "It's just . . . I'm so happy you did this for me . . . _Th-thank you. . ."_ He turned Zim to face him, so small beneath him, but so very beautiful. Such perfection, beyond anything one could dream of. Gaz was forgotten; her harsh words didn't exist. Only Zim mattered. Zim, and his touching attempt at romance. "T _hank you, Zim."_ Dib moved in and captured Zim's lips into a kiss. Hands slipped downwards, from strong shoulders to a bare torso, silk soft and glorious. Zim moaned, and all but melted into the kiss.

Then they parted. Faces were aflush, sweat dripped down excited bodies, and Zim cocked his head. "You looked sad before, Dib," he whispered. "Are you happy now?" His hand slipped into Dib's; soft, firm, and so very inviting . . .

When Dib opened his eyes, he saw the want. He saw readiness within Zim.

". . . Yes Zim. I'm happy." And when Dib moved in, so did Zim.


	2. Chapter 2

Hatred.  
Obsession.  
Need.  
Desperation.  
Love.

Such strange feelings. So different, and yet, so very alike. You hate something with the greatest of passions, and before you know it, you're addicted. Obsessed, with the greatest desperation. It becomes something you need.  
Something you love.

Zim . . .

Once I hated him, no question. When did I begin to crave him in my life? Zim vanished, and I did too. Into myself, waiting for the day he returned to me. I grew fat on need, I stank of desperation. Then Zim returned, and I found myself again.

 _Great Irk almighty, the sooner that idiot Zim finds out he's a defect, the better!_

Truly, I am a wretched person. Wretched enough that I was happy when Zim overheard his Tallest. I was happy that I was the first person he ran to for help. Oh yes, I wept for Zim. He would never shed a tear, so I cried in his place. Why, he asked me, with such confusion in his eyes.

" _B-because,"_ I gasped, "I _kn-know what it feels like . . ."_

I was fifteen, but I knew the pain of abandonment, oh, _so_ well. I knew how it felt to crave the approval of greater minds, only to be thrown in the mud. Zim and I, we were never so different. In the aftermath of his pain something changed; we fought, we argued, but afterwards we mopped up our wounds. We lay together in a sweet union. We talked, we played games. And sometimes we just lay in silence, basking in the company we'd both craved for so long.

I suppose it was only a matter of time, before things changed again.

* * *

" . . . Wow."

In the aftermath Zim and Dib lay together, in a sweaty mess of knotted limbs and redness. They were grinning like utter goofs; like foolish children who had committed the ultimate taboo, and for Zim himself, his spooch leaped a mile a minute. "That . . . was strange." Sweat streamed down his face – a mass of so many feelings: confusion, pain, pleasure . . . But mostly, there was curiosity. The coupling had been a little tense, with much awkwardness on both sides. It had been the first time for Zim and Dib both; the sensations had been most wondrous, so very addicting. Not unpleasant. At least, not completely. Though there had been hints that things may improve with practice.

Zim sat up, winced, and sighed. "My body requires nourishment. Computer! Send us the cake!"

A voice rang about the room. "G _ood luck."_ Dib prayed the computer had no understanding of the recent activity.

In a brief moment the cake arrived. As Dib predicted, it was the most foul creation to ever exist. The outer layer of the sponge was coated in a thick black crust, so fat that Dib's teeth struggled to break through, yet somehow, Zim had miraculously managed to undercook the centre. The frosting tasted burnt. Maybe it was pink once. Or red. Now it was a dark colour of rust. But despite it all Dib ate his portion down and even asked for a second.

Truly, love was blind.

"Are you feeling better?"

Dib turned his head. Even now, it sounded so alien when Zim asked such things. Selflessness was a contrast upon Zim, and yet it oddly suited him. Dib could not help but smile; his fingers twined into Zim's, sticky with frosting, and gave him a loving squeeze. "Yeah. . ." Their love making was still very fresh; the pain, the pleasure . . . Dib had no desire to taint their delight by recalling Gaz's harsh words. He sought for another topic, and only one burned in his head.  
"Aren't you male, Zim?"

The question took Zim aback. "Yes . . . Of course." He toyed with the icing figure of himself. "Do I _look_ female to you?"It was all Dib could do not to laugh at that. Zim had curves that no man had any right to own. His nails were long and sleek as a girl's. He had to look away so Zim wouldn't see his smile. "No, it's just . . ." Dib bit his lip. Eyes drifted down towards Zim's crotch, covered by the duvet.

" _Just?"_ Zim raised an eyerim.

Now he was trapped. Truly. ". . . You have a pussy," said Dib bluntly. A mask of confusion clouded Zim's expression. "A vagina," Dib clarified. "You have female parts, as well as a penis."

"Yes." Zim was unfazed by this. "That's how Irken males are. We bare both organs. Females only have a vagina. Is that not the same for humans?"

Dib choked back laughter. "N-no." All traces of humor vanished however, as a chilling thought dawned. "Wait . . . Does that mean you can get _pregnant?"_

"No. My kind haven't given natural birth for thousands of years." Zim liked educating Dib in the ways of his kind; he felt quite knowledgeable, and in turn, Dib loved to learn.

A sigh of relief escape his lips. "Thank God." Whilst Dib had nothing against children, he was only eighteen. Still in high school and just a child himself. He wanted to enjoy life; he wanted to experience the world, before settling down.

He wanted to experience it with Zim.

"Don't eat that." Zim placed an icing figure into Dib's gaping palm – a perfect depiction of Zim himself. "Anyway, why are you so interested in my organs? Do my genitalia worry you?" Just like that, Zim's eyes widened. Like an innocent child, and he searched within Dib for an answer. Hope swelled, and Dib could feel his heart melting.

". . . They don't." Since the teenage changes had taken hold, Dib had always wondered what lay between Zim's legs. Oh, how he'd fantasised; he'd dreamed so many possibilities - only now he couldn't recall a single one. Only the Zim of the now mattered. "Don't worry Zim, I wouldn't ever be disturbed by you, or your genitals." He lost himself within Zim's glorious eyes; perfect, molten beauty, and it stole Dib's heart away. He went to take a bite of the icing. "I love you, you silly Space-bo- _OW!_ It's sharp!

A dark cloud stormed over Zim's expression. "I told you not to eat it! It's a sandnut, not for eating!" he snapped over Dib's cries. The figure stayed in perfect tact but his teeth throbbed all the way to the back.

"What the fuck is a sandnut? And why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I told you not to eat it, foolish human! I thought that would be clue enough to _not_ eat it!"

" . . . That doesn't explain what a freaking sandnut is! Is the other one made of sand too?"

"Yes." Zim nodded, his fingers engulfed the figure of Dib. Undeniably, they were well made; on first glance, impossible to tell they were not edible. "A sandnut is made from cookie-sand, found on the deserts of Hobo 13. Stupid boy," Zim put in, a little harshly. He sounded so serious, eyes fixed and unbending, and Dib found it impossible to stay angry.

Quite suddenly, he started to laugh. "Y-you're a fucking idiot, you know that right?!" He pulled the baffled Zim into his warming embrace, and there they stayed, side by side and perfectly content. Dib could not recall ever feeling at such ease. Not at home with his father or sister, not at school. Not even alongside his fellow paranormal investigators.  
He never felt so happy to be himself, other than at Zim's side.

" . . . Zim isn't an idiot," Zim muttered, but his arms slipped around to engulf Dib. Stiffly at first, but soon melting into the warmth. Like his mate, Zim too felt so _right,_ beside Dib.

"Welcome home, Dib-worm."

* * *

 _Yes, I've changed my username! Henceforth I shall be known as Darth . . . ZaDr ;p_


	3. Chapter 3

_Three months later_

Zim was used to pain. It was drilled into every Irken at the instant of birth. They crashed to the ground and were zapped into life – the first thing they ever knew was a burst of white-hot agony.  
Life was painful. Smeethood was filled with cuts and bruises and broken bones. Every ounce of pain in the known universe, the Irkens knew it all. It was in their very history.

Oh yes, Zim was used to pain. But nothing like this.

His head pounded beyond recognition; with each sound his whole world shuddered, and threatened to see Zim scream. Searing fire burned his head and travelled all the way down to his stomach. It was there the pain lingered.  
Nothing stayed down. Breakfast had long since boiled up to the surface, and still it hurt! It twisted his spooch like a mad thing, writhing this way and that. He groaned once, hand resting upon the source of discomfort.

"Zim! Class is dismissed. You can go for lunch."

He glanced up. There his teacher stood over the desk. Such a common, empty face, one that Zim didn't care to remember. "Yes sir." He stood up, and with him rose the pain. _Lunch . . ._ The term was both utterly delightful, and also horrifying. _Irk almighty . . . I should have stayed home . . ._

"Zim?" Mr Stokke called after him. "Are you okay?"

He heard the words, but the sounds were all blurred into a jumbled mess. Zim stepped out into the hallway and his world started to spin.

* * *

The school bell's cry ripped throughout the building; a harsh, shrill echo, aggressive as an angry bulldog. Yet it sang to the sweet melody of freedom.

"Homework! Read pages one hundred and five to seven of your textbooks, and make notes on the pros and cons of c-section v.s natural birth. Class dismissed." Dozens of chairs scrapped against the floor as began the surge towards the hallway. Dib stretched out the aches in his shoulders and rose to his feet, keen to escape the classroom and find Zim.

"Dib, wait up!" Someone called and grabbed onto Dib's arm, linking through his. Dib blinked, and quite quickly, his shock folded into a smile.

"Oh, hey Gretch," he ruffled her thin locks of hair. "Did you find the lecture any easier?"

Gretchen nodded, her ponytail swinging to and fro. "Uh-huh! Thanks again for tutoring me, I'd never be able to pass this semester without you!"

Spots of red tinted Dib's cheeks. "Don't be silly," he said, touched, "you don't give yourself enough credit." The lockers were in sight; Gretchen untwined her arm from Dib's, and glided chicly to collect money for lunch.

"I do, you're just really good!" Gretchen countered. She pushed the locker closed and returned to Dib's side. His own locker was crammed with important studying materials; textbooks, notepads, pens, even a spare IPad, but nothing that gave any indication to Dib's personal life. Empty-handed he shut his locker, and Gretchen frowned. "Hey, don't you have anything for lunch?" She noted that Dib carried no money for food, nor a pre-packed lunch. Excitement brewed in the pit of her stomach. . .

"Not on me," Dib said. "I'm gonna meet with Zim, he's got both our lunches." Zim. The name alone held such power over them both. To Dib, the name filled him with joy, such delight he might have danced all the way to the arms of his love. To Dib, Zim made him forget Gretchen, and all the troubles of the world, and filled him to the brim with glee. To Gretchen however, it was a curse; the barrier that would forever keep her apart from her beloved. Despite this, she forced a smile onto her face.

"O-oh cool . .." She averted her gaze, lest Dib should see her pain. "I-it's still hard to believe that you guys are an item."

"For nearly three years. And three months since we started living together." Dib touched his cheek, bright red and hot, and plastered with a goofy smile. "It is, sometimes, but I wouldn't change anything." The world refocused from Dib's sweet daydream; it morphed into a cluster of shouting, swearing students, all crowding about a door. "Damn, what's going on here?" Dib stopped dead in his tracks; he saw nothing through the crowd, just a mismatch of swaying bodies. He backed away some; Dib was one never to be fond of crowds. As he stepped away so did Gretchen, and she gave his arm a gentle squeeze.

"We should go," she whispered. "The nurse is here anyway." She pointed through the crowd; At the source of chaos the school nurse stood up, stressed, and wiped sweat from her brow. "C'mon," Gretchen encouraged. She led Dib away.

"Hey! Mr Membrane!" The call ripped over the crowd and dragged Dib's gaze to the frantic nurse. "Come here! Your boyfriend's sick."

The world around him froze in place. "ZIM!" Gretchen was forgotten, nothing existed anymore. Dib elbowed his way through the crowd. "Zim, you okay?!" He fell the the ground, down beside his stirring Zim, moaning, clutching at his belly in pain. "Zim, it's me, Dib!" Dib cried frantically. "What's wrong? Talk to me babe!"

Slowly, Zim's eyes pealed open. The contacts were still in place, thank God, but his wig was twitching, antenna yearned to appear and find his mate. _"I-it hurts, Dib-worm,"_ Zim whined like a frightened child. A trembling hand reached forth and clutched weakly at Dib's shirt.

Panic gutted him in a moment's notice. Dib turned to the nurse. "What happened?" Only to be met by a mirage of confusion and shrugging shoulders.

"No idea. Mr Stokke said he just collapsed. I can't find a problem but he's definitely got a temperature." By now a flood of teachers arrived to steer the crowd onwards like cattle and away from the show. "I think you should take him home, Dib. I can write you both notes to excuse you from classes, okay?"

Dib nodded at once. "Thank you, ma'am." he swept Zim off of the ground like a small child. "Gretchen!" he pushed through the few lingering students to find his friend. "Listen I have to take Zim home. Can you do me a huge favour and collect my note from the nurse, and show it to our teachers?"

"Um . . . S-sure."

"Thanks hun, I owe you big time." Dib smiled. He turned away and forgot all about Gretchen and the school. Only Zim mattered; the heartbeat that kept him alive.  
"Hang on baby," Dib cooed. "We'll be home soon, I promise." He stroked Zim's antenna through the wig. They twitched once, twice, beneath Dib's deft fingers, and Zim clutched again for his mate.

" _. . . Dib . . . Help me . . ."_

* * *

 _Thanks for reading! Please favourite and review :D_


	4. Chapter 4

With each step came a giant pounding into his head. Zim groaned through clenched teeth; pain wrecked his body and sprung tears to his eyes. _"D-Dib-worm . . ."_ He clutched feebly at Dib's shirt.

"I know it hurts," Dib cooed and soothed Zim as one might a frightened child. "Just hold on a bit longer. See? We're in the lab now." As the words fell into the air so did the elevator descend, and touched the floor of Zim's laboratory. A cold room filled by extraordinary alien machines, blue-prints and creations far beyond human understanding. A thick chair stood at the foot of the computer screen. Dib lay Zim into the seat. The sharp points of his army boots scrapped the floor and clacked into the sleeping GIR's head.

"MASTAH, MARY, YOU'S HOME!" Just like that he was awake, and clinging to Zim's legs in delight. "Mastah, what's wrong? You look _awwwlll_ sick!" GIR's antenna drooped. His eyes swelled with tears, mere moments from screaming. Briskly, Dib eased GIR into his arms.

"Master isn't feeling well today." From his pocket Dib produced a jawbreaker and pressed it into GIR's mouth, silencing him. "You just enjoy the candy, okay? Let Mary take care of your master. Computer, run a scan!" Dib's head lifted. "Search for any viruses, diseases, or other abnormalities in Zim's body."

Once, the computer might have tutted, or made a rude comment – but time had become an asset to all. Anchored by its Irken master, the computer existed only as Zim did. _"Scanning . . ."_ A bright line of red rained down from above; Dib stepped back, GIR in arms, and let the laser run across Zim. By now the groaning had stopped, but still Zim sweated, his eyes pinched from the pain. He reached a hand for Dib.

"I'm here, baby," Dib soothed.

" _Scan complete!"_ The laser retracted from existence. _"Master Zim, your PAK is attempting to abort a parasite within your squeedily spooch."_

A parasite? Dib's heart dropped to his stomach and there, something churned inside, threatening to see him hurl.  
" _W-what?!"_ Zim opened an eye. _"H-how?! My PAK sh-should've flushed any parasite from m-my system by now! This pain's been here for hours!"_

 _Hours?_ "Zim, why didn't you say anything?!" Dib cried.

" _Answer is simple,"_ the computer drawled. _"Your organic body is at war with your PAK. It's fighting to prevent the PAK from eliminating the intruder."_

Dib's head whipped upwards. "Why would it do that? What the fuck kinda parasite is this?"

The computer sighed. _"Scanning resume . . . Parasite is identified as a fertilised smeet."_

The jawbreaker crashed to the ground and echoed all across the laboratory. GIR leaped from Dib's embrace to retrieve his prize. GIR couldn't see, nor understand, the surging terror that swept throughout Zim's bones.  
"Zim . . ? Are you okay?" Dib squeezed Zim's shaking hand.

" . . . C-computer. Put a temporary block on my PAK to prevent the abortion." Zim's voice was so small, so weak and frightened, unlike anything that should belong to Zim. The fear was apparent and in turn, it swept over and consumed Dib too. A cable reached down from no where and attached to Zim's PAK.

"A-a block?" Dib's gaze fell to the machine, giving new commands to the PAK. "Z-Zim. . . What kinda parasite is this?" His heart skipped a beat as Zim slowly lifted his head. Never before had he seen Zim so pale. So very _frightened._

"A-a smeet, Dib,"Zim rasped. "A _baby."_

And then, nothing. Silence echoed, but for the roaring inside Dib's head. The pounding of his frightened heart bellowed out like the drums of war. "B _-baby?_ B-but you said . . ." He stepped away; terror ruled his bones and set them trembling. Trembling as Zim's hand trembled, and he reached out for security.

"Dib I didn't know, I-"

His words greeted empty space. "I'm sorry Zim." Dib ran. He turned from the sudden fear and bolted, GIR trailing at his heels. Zim's fingers flexed, they too yearned to follow.

* * *

"Mary? Its been so long now. When will you come and make Mastah happy again? I wanna play wiff piggies and eat burneded peanuts with you. Mary, Mary look! If you come with me to see Mastah, you can give my piggie a hug if you wanted!"

Ignorance is bliss, so they said, and rightly so. Truly GIR knew nothing of the harsh truths of the world. He knew nothing of strife, nor anxiety. His world was full of food and fun and little else. He saw his beloved master and how he wept. That was all GIR saw. He saw no rhyme nor reason, he couldn't comprehend the fright of both Zim and Dib, or what it might mean.

 _Lucky jerk._ Dib cast his eyes to the prattling GIR, briefly, and returned gaze to the ceiling. It seemed an eternity and longer since last he'd spoken with Zim. Since the discovery.

 _. . . A baby . . ._

"D-Dib-worm . . ?"

Zim's voice sounded so far away, so very small, yet he stood before Dib. The shaking had long since passed but still, it did nothing to soothe Zim nor Dib. The Irken bit his lip, and perched on the edge of the couch beside Dib.  
And then, silence.

What could be said? Involuntarily, Dib's gaze fell to Zim's stomach. Perfectly flat, and resting Zim's own palm. Nothing seemed different. There was no visible sign that anything had changed.  
"I. . . I thought you said Irkens couldn't get pregnant." Dib broke the silence. He tried to sound calm and composed, but it was the wobbling of his voice that betrayed him.

"I didn't think we could." Still, Zim's voice was so small, insignificant, almost. It didn't suit him. "My kind hasn't given natural birth for tens of thousands of years. There's no records of it. I . . . I thought . . ." Zim's voice trailed away. He couldn't bring himself to look at Dib, let alone his own belly. Truly, Zim was lost.  
"W-what are we going to do, Dib?" Zim whispered.

All at once every thought and option crashed into Dib's head, and all but made the world spin. He saw his own life, long and happy with Zim. He saw himself studying, and flying across the stars with his beloved. He saw himself and so many planets before his eyes; he smiled. Such tranquillity.

And then he saw a baby, and his previous life was over.

Slowly, Dib opened his eyes. ". . . I had plans, ya know?" He buried is face into his palms; a brief moment of distress. And then it was over. "I'd been accepted into Princeton University. Remember Zim? I was gonna start next September, study forensics and biology. You said you'd come with me, that we could go out into space on the weekends, and just _play."_ A sigh escaped his lips, but with it, Dib was laughing. "I guess that plan's out the window."

"No! It doesn't have to be!" Zim lurched forwards and grabbed Dib's hand. "We can still do those things!"

Another laugh, this time lower, sad almost. "Can we, Zim?" Dib finally turned his gaze to Zim's, and the Irken marvelled at what he saw. In the window to Dib's soul Zim saw sorrow, he saw fear.  
But most of all, he saw _love.  
_ "I couldn't leave you all week to look after a child. It wouldn't be fair." He looked to GIR, ignorant GIR, playing with his food on the floor, and Dib sighed. "My dad .. . When I was growing up, he could always afford the best things for me and Gaz. Food, toys, clothes, holidays and games. We were well off, but he was never _there._ And it hurt. I always wanted Dad to pay us attention, to act like he cared."An ancient tremor of bitterness, forgotten not even by time, clung to Dib's throat. He wiped his eyes and looked to Zim again. "I always promised myself that I'd never be like him. That if I had a child, I wouldn't put my own selfish wants above the welfare of my baby."

"But . . ." Zim sounded strained. "It's not fair that you have to give up your dreams! I can't have my dreams, I can't be an invader anymore, so I have to settle for second best." His thoughts fell briefly to all his experiments and blue-prints down in lab. They were fun and all, but certainly not Zim's first choice of career. "Trust me worm, settling for second best isn't a good feeling. You . . . You should follow your dream, forget about the smeet."

It was here, when Zim averted his gaze, that Dib sensed something more to this. Something that resided deep with Zim's heart. "Zim . . ." Dib reached a hand and turned Zim to face him, and oh, how his eyes spoke to him. The eyes of an Irken, so mysterious, so utterly dazzling, and Dib had learn to read Zim's. ". . . D'you not _want_ this baby?"

Zim's gaze widened. " I . . ." He flinched away; shame had never suited Zim. Now with one hand pressed to his belly, it seemed all the more ugly. ". . . I don't know," Zim admitted quietly. "I told you, Irkens haven't given natural birth for many millennia. I don't know if we lay eggs or give live birth. I don't know how long we carry for, I don't even know if we're-" He froze on the verge of panic; a deep coarse blush invaded Zim's face. He looked away.

"Don't know what, Zim?"

Zim didn't answer. He only sighed. He looked so very frightened. For the first time since he'd left the Irken Empire, Zim was lost.

"Zim. Look at me." Dib called, and of course, Zim could only look at his mate. "Forget about me for a moment. Forget my wants and dreams. Do _you_ want this baby?"

It caught him of guard; never had Zim _ever_ been asked _his_ wants before. At least, not before Dib came along. After three years of friendship and more, it was something he still struggled to comprehend. ". . ." Words failed him. Zim looked to his belly; gently, he stroked the material of his tunic, where beneath and deep inside his spooch his smeet was growing. _Their_ smeet, made together, sharing blood and bone and life with Zim. The thought was both disturbing, yet beautiful.  
Zim thought of Earth babies. Smelly, dribbling, constantly screaming for food, attention and more. He didn't want that. What Zim wanted was Dib. For an Irken's mate was their whole world, the bind that kept them tethered to life. He wanted for Dib to be happy. He wanted to see and insult Dib everyday, to make love and chase one another like they used to. He wanted to give Dib a PAK, so they could be together eternally. All Zim wanted was Dib's happiness.

It was this that made Zim's choice. Because he could see in Dib's eyes that _Dib_ wanted this baby.

". . . Yes, I do."

That alone saw a change in Dib. His heart missed a beat, it filled with love and hope, and it was all he could do not to laugh. "A-are you sure?" He choked back delight. "Remember Zim that this is a baby. We can't just see how things go for a few years, and get rid of it if things don't work out. This'll be our child _forever."_

Zim closed his eyes. "Yes Dib, I'm sure."

And with that, the excitement could no longer be contained. Dib gasped like a child at Christmas and pulled Zim into a deep embrace. "That's wonderful Zim, I love you!" He covered Zim's face and antenna with kisses. "I just know you'll love being a mother! God we have so much to plan now, and I need to figure out what I'm gonna tell Dad and Gaz. He'll be so excited to be a grandfather!"

"Can I be da uncle?" GIR chirped in. Dib highly doubted that GIR had any idea what was happening but his didn't care.

"You bet you can!" Dib scooped GIR into the air and swung him like a baby. "You can be the uncle and pet puppy combined!" His words meant nothing but GIR squealed with laughter anyway, delighted by the attention. He laughed and hugged at Dib's chest, and all the while Zim forced himself to smile.

". . . The abortion block on my PAK is only temporary," Zim rose to his feet. "I'm gonna head to the lab and make it permanent."

"Okay! Don't be long!" Drunk on delight, Dib couldn't see inside Zim this time. He only continued to celebrate with the delighted GIR.  
Truly, ignorance was bliss.

* * *

". . . Computer, switch the setting on my PAK. Make the abortion block permanent." Zim scratched his arm. A cable fell from the ceiling above and got straight to work. When Zim remembered Dib's smiling face, he too smiled.

" _Not so smart of you to avoid the whole story."_ The computer remarked. "Y _ou have no idea if Irkens are maternal, do you?"_

The thought alone was terrifying. On Earth, people had babies all the time and loved them on sight. Dib was already in love with the fetus. But Zim . . . He didn't know how to feel. Irkens never learned emotion, it was blocked out completely. Zim himself would never had experienced emotion's wonders, had his PAK not been defective.  
Zim loved Dib without question. Once upon a time Irkens took mates, they mated for life. That was recorded, but no information remained about natural births. This smeet could quite easily be born, and Zim wouldn't feel a shred of emotion for it.

"I don't, you're right." The block was now permanent, the smeet was safe; Zim rested his hand to his belly and closed his eyes. "I pray to Irk that we are, or I fear this'll tear Dib away from me."

* * *

 _Dun dun dun! And so we have the smeet! Truly, I am utter trash :D_


	5. Chapter 5

With a simple twist of the key the engine died. Chic as the wind she slid the helmet away; there waves of deep purple danced to the wind's ancient song, and all eyes turned to the source of impeccable beauty.  
"Idiots." Gaz Membrane shook out her hair so the breeze might swim through her dark locks. She was not at all oblivious to her feminine charms. She knew that all boys stared, their gazes filled with wanton longing, and a great grasping of fear and respect – though whether for the female gender, or she herself, Gaz was unsure. She turned her back, uninterested in the silly boys, her heart sought only her greatest love. After all, video games and pizza would never break a girl's heart.

She pushed her key into front lock. Only the tiniest crack was needed for Gaz. Laughter racked through the hallway and in its wake, it killed her tranquil dreams.  
"Good God, why's _he_ here?" Gaz slammed the door behind her, alerting all to her presence.

"Is that you, honey? Look who came by!" Professor Membrane called, but Gaz didn't need to look. She knew that pair of sneakers at the door, she knew that hideous, obnoxious laughter all too well, and _oh,_ how it turned her stomach.

"Sounds like life's been going well for you both!" A pause, in which time Membrane slurped the final dregs from his cup. Coffee, going by the smell. "Anyhow, over the phone you mentioned you'd want to borrow some science equipment?"

"Yeah, that's right." Dib's voice was all it took to make Gaz's flesh crawl. Why, pray tell, did he _continue_ to plague her life? "I was wondering if we could borrow the DNA manipulator? I was telling Zim about it see, and he'd really like to see how it works."  
Something about his tone made Gaz double-take. Loath to admit it, but she knew Dib far better than Membrane did. She could pick even the slightest lie from Dib's truths. Here, she knew, something wasn't right.

Membrane, however, was completely ignorant. "I didn't know your boyfriend was interested in science?" For the first time in years, he actually sounded impressed.

"Oh yes. Our grades have been pretty much neck-and-neck since elementary." Another pause, awkward almost, as Dib cleared his throat. "S-so. Can we?"

"Hmm . . . Well, I don't see why not. You know where it is, right son? Need a hand?"

"No, I'll be okay. Thanks Dad." The chair scraped against the cold tiled floor. As Dib disappeared into the basement Gaz chose then to make herself seen. She coughed, harshly, snatching her father's attention straight to her.  
"Comes over when he wants shit then? _Que'll surprise ."_ She snatched up the coffee pot and drunk straight from the cooling nozzle.

"Actually, _I_ invited Dib over." Membrane trudged to the sink and rinsed out his mug. "I have to ask him something important. He just happened to want to use the manipulator."

 _Something important?_ For the second time so shortly, Gaz's heart dropped. "Ask him _what?"_

A lost question. Dib clambered back into the kitchen, his arms clamped around an enormous black box, housing inside Membrane's precious equipment. "Thanks again, Dad," Dib smiled. "Not sure when we can return it, but we'll have it back no later than Christmas."

Membrane waved his hand very nonchalantly. "There's no hurry. You boys take your time. Anyway, I'll be seeing you sooner, won't I, for Thanksgiving?"

The reaction was instant. _"What?!"_ Heads whipped towards Membrane. Gaz, a great mass of rage bubbling beneath her skin. Dib, all but frozen in shock. His fingers went slack briefly, then clamped again mere moments before the DNA manipulator fell. "D-dad! Thanksgiving's over a month away!"

"I know," Membrane allowed. "But I don't want you making plans with Zim's parents first! You'll be here, won't you? Your boyfriend too, of course." He sounded hopeful as a puppy; sickening, but sweet too. Clearly, Membrane was trying to submerse himself in family life, and despite the unintentional rudeness, Dib couldn't help but feel touched.

He adjusted his hold on the box. "I'll mention it to Zim, but it shouldn't be a problem. Thank you." Dib beamed. He turned, and gave his bright smile to Gaz. She killed it with but a glare, and Dib flinched away, hurt.

"Wonderful!" The professor radiated with delight. "Your boyfriend's vegetarian, right? Let me know what his other allergies are and I'll plan around it. D'you need a ride back home with that?"

"Please." Dib slipped past. There he stopped, and lingered beside his sister for a moment. "N-nice seeing you, Gaz." Another smile, only this one was weaker, and died faster than the first. "Take care of yourself." They walked on past, leaving Gaz behind to stew in bitter juices.

* * *

Astride invasion and genocide, it was knowledge that strove Irkens forwards the most. They relished in it, they gorged themselves day in and day out on valuable, golden knowledge. Histories and myths of their own people, and others whom shared the universe; first weapons and prototypes of PAKs, the ritual of selecting a mate, and how one mated for life – everything was recorded for future generations.  
Everything, but for a trace of natural birth.

A shudder swept through Zim's skin. He'd dug deep, far into the records that not even the Almighty Tallest could see, and even then, he found nothing. He had but the scans provided by the computer, and the limited knowledge of human birth. Save for that, Zim was blind.

"Mary home!" GIR's voice broke through the silence, followed swiftly by the elevator descending unto the lab floor. Zim didn't turn, he didn't allow Dib to see the worry etched over his face. He merely faced the computer still, chewing on his bottom lip. With Dib, there came another worry . . .

"Hey there, little dude. Wanna cookie?" Something hit the floor and GIR bolted across the laboratory in eager delight. Dib chuckled and moved in to Zim's side. "Hey babe. Package arrived for you, I left it on the kitchen table." Under one arm he lugged a huge black box. He set it carefully onto the floor and kissed Zim's cheek. "Find anything useful?"  
Zim merely grunted. His gaze flitted to the box. "What is _that?"_ He frowned, confusion and immense wonder both carved into his expression. "Is that the device you were telling me about, the one your father-unit made?"

Dib nodded. "Yup. DNA manipulator. It's the second prototype. With some fine tuning Dad's hoping to release them to the general public in the next few years. It'll allow people who can't normally have babies to start families – infertile couples, gay and trans people. Even single adults." The ghost of an old smile flickered briefly. Zim blinked, and the spark died from Dib's eyes. "I thought we could tell people that we were fucking about with it, and accidentally made a child that way."

A bizarre story, to be sure! Even Zim could see that; it stood out far beyond any of his lies on Earth. "Sounds a bit far-fetched. No one's gonna believe that!"

"Oh, I dunno. . ." Dib's voice drifted. "Say the word 'science' to Dad and he'll believe in unicorns and fairies. And the world's certainly dumb enough to believe anything the great Professor Membrane says." The bitterness was subtle, but rang strong to Zim's lekkus. He couldn't help but smile a bit. Once upon a time Dib would never insult his own people. How times had changed. There were more days than not in which Zim forgot that Dib was even human at all . . .

A cold wind crept into his blood. Zim trembled.

"You okay babe?" Dib frowned. He rubbed Zim's arm up and down. It wasn't cold to touch, but nonetheless Dib stripped away his jacket and draped it over Zim's shoulders. "Don't neglect yourself, 'kay? I know how cold you get." Such a tender smile, one Zim would never have expected Dib to gift him with, many years ago. "Anyway, did you manage to find any information?"

Zim blinked. "Er . . . Yes! Move GIR." He turned back to the computer screen and swept GIR from the keyboard. Cookie crumbs lingered on the keyboard; they fell to the ground too, awaiting their final rest within GIR. "Nothing's really recorded about a natural Irken birth," Zim was saying. "I've researched all the way back to prehistoric times, but all such records have been erased."

"But you found some things, right?" Dib lifted GIR into his arms, mere moments before the robot started chewing on electric wires.

Zim nodded. "I ran some scans on my spooch, and tested the nutrient levels in my blood and urine. Tests conclude that I'm eight weeks gone and should give birth in approximately twenty-two weeks from today."

Dib did some quick maths in his head. "A little shorter than a human pregnancy then." On the screen Zim bought up an image; it was little more than a blur of black and solid grey. Dib squinted behind his glasses, trying to decipher the image.  
"The scan of my spooch." Zim's tone had suddenly become much quieter. ". . . The smeet's encased within an egg. According to my calculations it should hatch four to five days following the birth."

An egg? "You're gonna lay an _egg?!"_ The excitement was apparent. It had always been obvious that Zim wasn't mammalian; the idea that he'd lay an egg wasn't all that shocking to Dib, but it was immense exciting. "That's so awesome!"

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one who's gotta push it out!" Zim retorted and turned his back. A cold act, one to hide the petrified expression from Dib. Irkens never admitted to fear; such an emotion was weak, it was filtered by the PAK. But his was defective, and Zim was frightened. He knew nothing about raising a smeet, nor birth or maternity. He didn't even know how to love the child.

" . . . You're right. I'm sorry." Then came Dib's arms. Warm, safe, they encased Zim and held him close. Once, Zim would shy away from such affections. Now how melted into Dib's arms, savouring the love of his mate. Whilst he still could, before another claimed it all . . .

" . . . You said I got a package?"

Dib nodded. "Yeah .. . Need to talk to you 'bout that Zim. I understand the convenience of space mail and stuff, but can you not order so much stuff by priority meteorite? They're conspicuous as fuck."

"Priority meteor?" Zim's antenna sprung to attention.

"Yeah, and that's the second time this week one's almost hit me on the head. I swear to God Zim, those damn parcels are gonna be the death of me- Hey Zim! Where're you going?!" His arms were suddenly empty and Zim was bolting toward the elevator.  
"Need to get that parcel, very important! Can you print that scans for me?!" His mind was miles away, that much was obvious. Dib gave but a tiny nod. "Thanks, worm!" Zim leaped into the elevator. It began to ascend, leaving Dib quite confused and alone with GIR.

"Can I has another cookie Mary?"

* * *

The parcel was just as Dib said it to be. On the kitchen table; a sturdy box still dusted with the remanence of meteor dust, long since dead.

" _Yeah, and that's the second time this week one's almost hit me on the head. I swear to God Zim, those damn parcels are gonna be the death of me!"_

Zim close his eyes. "You're wrong, Dib-worm," he muttered, a shaking hand claw ripped through the tape and with it, it seemed his world was shaking.  
Zim still had no idea how he felt about his smeet. But Dib . . . Dib was his mate. His whole world. Back when they battled, even then Zim was focused only on Dib; defeating Dib, fighting Dib, outsmarting Dib, _seeing_ Dib each and every day. Now things had changed, and Zim loved Dib unconditionally. He was Zim's mate, and nothing mattered more to an Irken than their own beloved.

The box opened up and Zim stroked the tiny PAK inside; just right for a smeet's body. Humans were so very fragile. The simplest thing could destroy their weak bodies. And should they manage to survive, at end of it all, death was inevitable. Humans had such short lives. But not Irkens. The body was exterior hardware – the true self, the soul, contained in the PAK. For Irkens, a body could be replaced. Providing the PAK was unharmed, they were essentially immortal.

So what would happen, Zim thought, when his precious mate were to die? Their smeet, half Irken, would not yet be grown up, it would still need its parents to depend on. It couldn't live without them.  
And of course, Zim couldn't live without Dib.

Zim withdrew his hand, and looked to the second PAK.

* * *

 _And so continues the war of Dib and Gaz - an important factor of this story. Thanks for reading! Please review and favorite ;p_


	6. Chapter 6

"Computer, analyse!"

A great light rained down and smothered the tiny PAK in its embrace. At the edge of the rays Zim lingered close by, chewing at the dry skin of his lip. It wasn't the tiny PAK however that set his spooch on edge. In the corner of his eye the larger PAK seemed just that much more obvious. It had been taken apart and now rested in one piece again. It did nothing however to soothe Zim's nerves.

" _Scan complete. PAK has passed all theoretical tests and shows no sign of toxins,"_ The computer's great voice filled the laboratory. _"I calculate a 99.8% chance of it successfully supporting the_ _Irken/human hybrid smeet's life."_

Zim nodded. "I see . . ." He turned, and took the other PAK into his gaze. The first, forgotten. "A-and this one?" His voice trembled, fighting back the fear. He was an Irken soldier, after all. Fear was not an option.  
No scan was required this time; the computer spoke confidently. " _Settings within the PAK have all been successfully changed to immortalise the life of a human. It's no longer connected to the Massive and only requires a human for activation._

It was music to Zim's antenna. Sweet, sweet melody. His finger flexed across the surface of the PAK as if it were a priceless jewel. As if Dib himself stood before him. "See Dib-worm? I didn't fail you," he whispered. "I'm not going to lose you. I _won't_ lose my mate. . .

* * *

The elevator rose. It had, since Dib's childhood, been moved around the house. Now the elevator stood at the door to the kitchen, out of sight of the front entrance. A good thing too. As Zim stepped forth his antenna flickered, and sprung to attention. Dib. But another scent too. Once he knew only too well.

" _Haha!_ Oh Dib, that's so mean! Will Gaz even bother to go then?" Gretchen's voice. The sound saw Zim cringe.

"No idea. I expect so, but nothing surprises me where she's concerned. Anyway, Zim's not thrilled about the dinner so it'll be a chore and a half to get him to come."

"Oh yeah, I forgot Zim doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving. Actually, does he celebrate _any_ holidays?"

"I do, _actually."_ Sharp as a razor, and Zim stepped into view, dragging a gasp from Gretchen's lips. She of course, had no idea of Zim's identity. His alien features now sat hidden behind contact lenses and a wig, his belly still too small to seem out of place. To Gretchen, he looked the same as ever. "What's she _doing_ here?" Zim looked to Dib, he wouldn't acknowledge Gretchen any longer.

"I invited her over, obviously." Dib rolled his eyes. He'd become quite used to Zim's jealousy; the Irken had always struggled to share Dib's affection. Not that distrust sat between them, of course. Zim's loyalty to his mate was inconceivable, and in turn, his trusted Dib with his very soul. He lived on earth, because of, and for Dib. Zim's eyes shot to Gretchen, piercing through her very skin and made her flinch. "Make her go," Zim said shortly. "We need to talk." He spun on his heels; the sound of the elevator descending echoed across the air, familiar to Dib's ears but to Gretchen, it went unnoticed.

"Sorry about him." Dib rose, and offered Gretchen a hand up. Once, Gretchen's heart may have fluttered at such contact, but now she'd come to accept that Dib was a friend, nothing more than a friend, and that was okay. She was moving on.  
She smiled. "No worries, I should go anyway, my shift starts in an hour." She lifted onto his toes and kissed Dib's cheek. "Go on, go calm the storm, I'll catch you later."

 _Calm the storm . . . If only it was that easy . . ._ Dib waved Gretchen down the block, seeing her safe from sight. "Fucking hell Zim, what've you done this time?" He sighed, bracing himself, and trudged into the storm's eye.

* * *

"Damnit Zim, must you be so rude to her? She's _just_ a friend." The elevator had merely kiss the ground and Dib stepped forth. The laboratory, so alien and wondrous, still held much mystery, enticing Dib in. Today however, he ignored it.

"I don't like her," Zim called stubbornly, gesturing Dib to his side. He stood before a small table, blocking from Dib's sight what lay before him.

Dib felt his brow fold into a frown, his arms crossed. "Oh really? I never would have guess-" Words trailed unto the air and vanished into sight before his eyes. Two, so alike, and yet so very different. "Z-Zim . . . Are those Irken PAKs?"

"Yes . . . And no." As Zim reached for Dib's hand he knew at once all trace of animosity was gone. Gretchen was forgotten, naught but a distant memory. Zim's hand rose and pointed to the table. "This is for the smeet. I've made modifications so it can support and Irken/human hybrid. All the tests to date have been successful, they'll be no problems."  
The PAK was small enough to fit inside Dib's palm. Like Zim's it was silver, spotted thrice with pink, and utterly spectacular. Dib's hand reached out and carressed the surface of the PAK. _Our baby's PAK …_ A smile graced his lips, full of delight. "It's beautiful . . ." he smiled, and shifted his gaze to the second PAK. "But . . . What about this one? Is it a prototype or something?"

The change was instant; all ease vanished at once. Zim's gaze lifted and fixed upon Dib. "No worm. This PAK is for you."

 _What?! "For me?!"_ Dib flinched away. Zim held onto his hand.

"Yes. For you." Beautiful alien eyes swallowed Dib's gaze, fixing him into place. "You humans have such fleeting lives. We Irkens however don't. What you call a soul is contained within the PAK. We age much more slowly, and the process halts once we reach adulthood. If our bodies die we live on inside the PAK. In essence, and long as the PAK remains intact, we're immortal." Zim's eyes fled to his flat stomach. He still had no idea whether or not he cared for their baby. Ether way however, it was for Dib he feared. "Our smeet it going to take around a hundred human years to reach adulthood. Before that time's even up you'll be dead, Dib-worm." Alone, saying it aloud made Zim's blood run cold. "An Irken's mate is our whole world. If you die, I'll die with you, and our smeet'll be all alone. And even if it weren't for the smeet I would still see you with a PAK Dib. I cannot watch you grow old and feeble, whilst time doesn't touch me. That'll kill us both Dib, and you know it."

He did know it. It was a thought that had haunted Dib as long as he could recall – having to see himself grow old and ill, whilst Zim remained youthful . . . The thought killed him. Yet know, with an answer right before his eyes, Dib was petrified.  
"Y-you're asking me to give up my _humanity_ Zim," he gasped. "I-if I become immortal with you, what would that make me? I wouldn't be human anymore. I-I'd have to watch the other people I care about wither away. Dad, Gaz, Gretchen . . . _Earth itself._ " A shiver ran through his blood and saw his hand slip from Zim's. "Th-that's horrible! That's-" His stomach turned and saw him gagging.

Zim was crushed. "B-but Dib! Don't I matter? Doesn't the smeet matter?" He was hurt, and touched the gift he'd so carefully made,

"Of course you matter!" Dib caught his breath and captured Zim's hands. "Zim, you and the baby are the most important to me! But . . . Y-you can't just spring something like this on me and expect me to be delighted. I'm only a human. Immortality . . . It's a _terrifying_ thought . . ." Slowly, almost regrettably, his hands slipped from Zim's. The stood close by, yet so very apart. "I-I'm sorry Zim . . . I need to think about this."

"Dib, wait!" Zim reached but his hand caught only thin air. He was Irken, he couldn't comprehend Dib's fear. Zim turned to the PAKs – both Dib's and the smeets. "Y-you cause me so much grief already . . . How can I ever love you?" Zim fell to his knees, hands upon his stomach. Just like that, he was as terrified as Dib himself.

* * *

 _I'm back! Sorry for the hiatus. I've recently returned to college and have been swamped with work! I haven't forgotten this story and I shall try my best to update again. Thank you all for your patience and again, I am truly sorry_


	7. Help me! Information on hiatus

Hi there to all the amazing people following Smeet and Spice! I have not forgotten about this story, however I've fallen on hard times which has thus made updating a challenge. As some of you know I'm open for story commissions (information below). I'm still very much into Invader Zim and ZaDr, however college work has kept me preoccupied. Furthermore, with my finacial situation is so dire it's left me with little to no motivation. As a result, I am going to be trying out a new method, though bare in mind I've been very reluctant to do this. I'm now posting a link to my for people to donate. Each chapter costs £5; all I asked is that those people who are enjoying the story consider donating, even if it's only 50p or so. Once £5 in total has been accumulated I shall post the new chapter. Commissions are still open alongside this. I hope you all understand and will just consider helping me out. Alongside this, if anyone wishes to commission me for a fanfiction of their own please PM me and I'll be more than happy to accommodate you. I charge by UK pounds - £5 for a story of 1500 or less, and £10 for a higher word count. Thank you so much ~ Shippo

Donations page - .me/GarciaIrvine


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